Café Anomalies

Too Close

Well, here's the third chapter. It's still relatively slow. I guess here, you learn a little bit more about Erik and Ziven's personality. Erik has some issues he needs to deal with and Ziven? Well, Ziven is just straightforward and blunt. 

I'm starting to get attached to this story. I hope whoever is reading this is also enjoying it. Well, as much as someone can in only three chapters. 

Enjoy.

____ 

Erik /ˈɛrɪk/

noun : Old norse

1.   Powerful

Ziven hadn’t managed to take one step away before he felt skinny fingers wrap around his wrist and his body being pulled back.

"W-Wait!"

Ziven glanced back at Erik questioningly, "What?"

“Aren’t you going to ask? Don’t you want to know?” Erik looked up at him pleadingly, a desperate tone laced into his soft-spoken voice.

“No,” Ziven answered truthfully, his nose wrinkling slightly as the strong scent of alcohol hit his nose.

But Erik continued as if Ziven hadn’t spoken at all, “I couldn’t get any sleep. I kept having nightmares.” His fingers tightened around Ziven’s wrist, tears pricking at the corners of his red-rimmed eyes.

“Are you drunk?”

Erik looked at him, tears threatening to fall. He shook his head back and forth. “No, I’m not. I-I don’t get drunk easily.”

Ziven looked down at Erik, observing him. He didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “It’s late,” Ziven stated.

“I know,” Erik whispered, his voice cracking ever so slightly, “Can you stay with me?”

He avoided the question and Erik’s pointed gaze, “You should go to bed.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Ziven remained silent, giving the younger male no response.

“Please.” Erik stepped closer to Ziven and gently took Ziven’s other hand into his own. The brunette tensed, but didn’t push the other away. Erik took it as a sign to continue. He rested his forehead against Ziven’s chest and began to speak, “Can’t you stay with me? Please, Ziven, please.”

Erik was too close now. Ziven wanted to push the other away- he didn’t want to know Erik’s secret. He didn’t want to be dragged into his world and his troubles. Ziven was satisfied with his own world.

“You like me, right? That’s why you talked to me, right? Please, Ziven,” Erik begged, choking on his words. Ziven felt a warmth against his shirt.

He was crying.

The gnawing feeling in his chest returned. But that didn’t stop him from scrunching his eyebrows together and wrinkling his nose. The teen reeked of alcohol.

“Let’s go inside,” Ziven murmured. He felt Erik nod against his shirt but Erik clung onto him desperately- almost too desperately. Ziven forcefully pulled away from Erik and rubbed his wrist.

Erik sniffed. “Sorry. Your shirt is wet.”

“It’s fine.”

Erik nodded and led Ziven inside the quaint home. The interior, to Ziven’s surprise, was nicely furnished. While small, the house was decorated nicely, evoking a warm feeling of home. And then, there were the beer bottles littered across the living room. Erik noticed Ziven’s stare.

“I-I don’t drink much.”

A lie.

“It’s just.. sometimes I get an urge, you know?”

No, he didn’t know.

“I’ll clean it up later.”

Definite lie. Ziven had quickly taken note of some bottles strewn across the worn gray couch were slightly rusted- a clear sign Erik hadn’t bothered to clean in a while. Erik took Ziven’s hand and pulled him to a set of stairs. They walked up, the aged stairs creaking in protest beneath their feet.

Erik’s room was small. Unsurprisingly, his walls were bare as was the furniture. A single desk took one side of the room, and a bed on the other. Two small cases of bookshelves- fully filled- sat beside the desk. Ziven noticed books took up most of the space in his room. Maybe he liked to read. Probably.

Erik switched on a table lamp on his nightstand beside his bed and then switched off the main light. He crawled into bed and snuggled under the thin covers. “Over here,” Erik patted the empty space beside him, looking almost too excited.

“One night,” Ziven said as he took a seat on his bed.

“Okay.” Erik pressed himself against Ziven, wrapping his arms around his torso, and buried his face into his side. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled.

Ziven didn’t speak or move. He tried to keep as still as possible while he thought back to Erik’s words, You like me, right? That’s why you talked to me, right? Did he like Erik? No. He didn’t. He’d merely talked to him out of curiosity. He didn’t care for him that way. There was no reason to. He barely knew Erik- and he didn’t wish to know anymore than he already did.

When he heard Erik’s breathing even out, Ziven tried to untangle himself from the mess of limbs. But Erik only tightened his grip, snuggling closer to Ziven. Sighing, Ziven laid back into the bed and tried to relax. He wanted to go home.

 ___

I really wanted to finish this chapter so I decided to end this short. The next one will probably feel longer if I'm feeling up to it. 

Vote, comment, like, stuff, go for it.